


Dearly Beloved

by SigynOdinson



Category: Constantine (TV)
Genre: Character Turned Into a Ghost, Dead People, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Excessive Drinking, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 20:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SigynOdinson/pseuds/SigynOdinson
Summary: Reader comes to a realisation and John decides to change.





	Dearly Beloved

You watch silently as John walks around the room. He gathers armfuls of supplies, candles, oils and exotic relics you had never seen before. You always meant to ask about them but somehow you never had the time.

 

His hair was even wilder than usual and you had to stop yourself from chiding him for his appearance. When had he become so haggard? Noticeable bags hung low under his bloodshot eyes the smell of cheap cigarettes and booze stuck to his coat.

 

“Oh John.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “What has happened to you. Where is Chas? Or Zed?”

 

Now finished setting up his candles he sat hunched on a wooden stool, his head in his hands.

 

“They’re all gone, (Y/N), they're all gone.” His voice cracked, breaking your heart. You had only ever seen him like this when he had told you about what happened in Newcastle. “I can't do this without them, without you.”

 

“You'll never have to, whenever you need me John I'm here.” You wrap your (SkinTone) arms around him placing your forehead against his back. You could hear his erratic breathing and you pulled away frowning, he had never been this bad.

 

You could find no trace of the cocky Englishman you had fallen in love with, the man in front of you was broken beyond measure and it pained you that you had no idea why.

 

He wiped a tear from his eye with the heel of his hand before standing up and moving to the altar. You recognised that the herbs and oils he had were usually those used in rituals for communing with the dead. Blackberry and Clove to ward away evil spirits, Magnolia and sandalwood to strengthen spiritual awareness and other herbs that you didn't recognise.

 

“ _ Contra obsecro hoc spiritum justa ad facientem voluntatum mayhem”  _ He chanted burning the herbs. Sprinkling the ashes into the oils. You could feel thematically energy tingling in the air. “ _ Contra obsecro hoc spiritum justa ad facientem voluntatum mayhem!” _

 

He dropped something else into the oil. A ring. Your engagement ring, you looked down at your hand to find it gone. He was summoning you.

 

“Oh God.” You breathe.

 

“(Y/N)?” John’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry”

 

You could remember now. You had both decided, one more job, one more then that was it. You were getting married and frankly being a demonic investigator and a powerful witch hardly paid the bills. John had plans to become a PI, years of experience investigating demonic forces had taught him how to read people and you had plans to work as a (vocation) whilst also helping John using your scrying and clairvoyance spells.

 

But that last job had went wrong.

 

“I’m-” You couldn't bring yourself to say it. So instead you deflected. “You've nothing to be sorry for John, and anyways look at the state of you! Where are Chas and Zed? They shouldn't have left you alone especially not after-”

 

“After you died.” He finished my sentence grimly.”They stayed with me for a while but I just wasn't me anymore. I started again and I couldn't stop.”

 

You didn't need to ask, before you had met him he had been a heavy drinker, his way of drowning his sorrows after Newcastle. And while he still drank frequently after you had met him Chas had informed you it was a vast improvement from his former self.

 

“John.” You said softly. “Don't do this to yourself.Please, I can't bear to see you like this. I love you John.”

 

Cupping your hands around his face you continue.

 

“I love you John Constantine and If you drink yourself into an early grave I will never forgive you. You will be the reason I can't move on.” 

 

Your statement seemed to awaken something in him, rekindling his will to live from the smallest of embers. He knew what happened to ghosts who couldn't move on and he would never forgive himself if he turned you into that.

 

“I love you too doll.” His usual smirk reluctantly spread across his face. “No copping off with Harold now, I'll know.”

 

You laughed a little, tears beginning to run down your face. You could feel the magic fade soon he wouldn't be able to see or hear you.

 

“No promises.” You sniffle. “I guess this is Goodbye?”

 

He nodded solemnly, he was trying not to cry again but you had given up-and-coming were practically sobbing.

 

You pressed your lips against his, you could feel their warmth fade as you returned to an astral form, the taste of salt clung to your mouth.

 

A sad smile graced your lips, as you faded out of existence the last thing you saw was the bottle of scotch tipping into the sink.


End file.
